Circumstances & Destiny

By popular demand...some non-Betties requested I blog here again. They'd asked why I stopped, and I responded that I had a feeling I was putting too much negativity out there, so I stayed silent.

Mostly, I think they love when they hear me rant. They've known me a long, long time, some very personal things I've done, I've gone through, the tears I've ripped out of my soul, and mostly, through the years of all of us together online, they've known me for my anger, my ranting. My righteous indignation of perceived trials and personal tribulations.

So... here I am.

I probably need to backtrack a bit to let the readers of this particular blog know that I did, indeed, go to the Faux Marriage Counseling alone. It was... enlightening. I haven't blogged since. I wasn't sure what to say, if anything. Those who know me well know I have deep knowledge of all things theological, but that I don't practice a thing with it.

Until recently.

But I've kept that private. Only those in my house and my parents know that I've started going to church. This is my first public statement to that regard. I've had some very odd things happening to me personally, just me, effecting JUST ME, but they've been strong, and I'm smart enough not to ignore it all. I'm not the stupid chick in a book or movie who wanders down the dark basement stairs alone after hearing a noise. When I hear something, I acknowledge it for what it is, good or bad. But the darkest stairs ever lead to the scariest place I've ever known: My own mind.

I'm not happy that my mind is dark, but I definitely recognize it, and accept it as it is after years of trying to change it. It's just me. During that one counseling session, I got a bit irked that he wanted to put a label on me: Christian or non-Christian? Don't label me. I gave my blathering facts of who I am, and then he pointed out that in my defense against labeling, I had the audacity to slap personal definitions of when *I* thought things meant.

It was quite the wake up call, and in the weeks since then, I find myself letting go of the ideals I've allowed myself to believe in so thoroughly and completely and blindly, and to realize that if He can accept me without predefined definitions, I damn well should be able to accept it myself.

So I'd gone to church a couple of times on Wednesday nights, but today was the first time in my adult life that I went alone, just me, for me, no kids, no parents, no special occasion. Just me.

The church is small, maybe 50 people. They flocked to me, genuinely happy to have me there. I feel like an ant under the magnifying glass, with the heat burning down on me when really, they just want a closer look at this new thing that's traveled within their view. Can't really blame them for that at all, and everyone is so sweet. No one wonders why two of my kids have one last name, and two more of my kids have another last name, and how soon I will have a new last name as well. They just accept.

Today's sermon was "Circumstances do not control our destiny." With some things going on that I'm witnessing, I can't help but think of this line repeatedly. If my circumstances had been this, then maybe _________ would have resulted, or I'd be with _________ living _________. But would I? Or is it like I've been thinking the last few months, that I'm exactly where I need to be? Everyone is exactly where they're meant to be, maybe to stay, maybe to pass through. With particular things being experienced today, I want to scream, "He was mine!" but I can't. I want to kick and flail at the life I thought I was to experience, to live, to grow in, and in the end, it's not. I witness and remain quiet, because to do otherwise serves no purpose.

It wasn't my destiny.

I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

I'm growing and developing and hurting and loving and crying and laughing right where I'm supposed to be -- living the life I was destined to live, regardless of the circumstances.

Pre-Marriage Counseling -- Table of One

I've mentioned before that we were signed up to take pre-marriage counseling, and as great as that sounds in theory, the reality was to save $60 off the marriage license. Not only did I get us signed up after many days of phone calls and emails to find someone near us that still did this specific counseling for the state, but it was because he constantly asked if I'd found someone yet.

Seemed it was a high priority for him. In fact, with the balance owed on the rings, he'd even commented that we may get me some small plain band if we got married before the rings were paid off, making it sound like it would be soon after the 4 weeks of counseling. In fact, when looking at the rings and in several conversations, he's talked about getting me back on the good insurance again (military, because it covers everything, whereas my disability Medicare is horrible so I never get treated.) Again, making it sound like the marriage would be soon even though a date wasn't set.

Remember two nights ago and the dinner thing? Yeah, we've barely spoken since. I'm not sure what HIS problem is since he was the ass to ME, but it's apparent he's being pissy about something -- probably pissed that I was pissed or something equally insignificant. (Yes, I think I had just reasons to be upset and he didn't care enough to figure it out. No, I don't think he has a single reason to be upset.)

Tonight, my oldest wanted to go out to eat and he actually agreed, and at dinner, we talked back and forth about his work -- much more than the last two days combined. I thought okay, we'll just leave this to miscommunication of me getting upset and him being an ass from being so overworked. But as soon as we returned home, the silence returned.

So... he got online. I asked if he was going to look up the location of the church we're supposed to go to tomorrow. He said no. I asked, "Do you want me to look it up or just cancel it?"

He said, "Cancel it."

Well alright then. But I'm not canceling it. I'll go alone and get personal counseling instead.

*shrugs*

As he always says, "It's all about priorities", and he definitely let me know what's a priority to him now.

The Almost Ring -- Photo

Lora requested I post a picture of my rings. I went yesterday to plop another $500 down toward the lay-away and upgraded my original 3/4 carat to a full carat (so together, it's 1.25 carats combined.) The only photo I have is of the 3/4, so imagine this but with a much bigger solitaire, with an H classification and certification and all.

The yellow gold solitaire was purposefully placed inside the white gold ring guard. I love two-toned things -- all my watches are like that as well, but also when we put the diamond into the yellow gold guard, it didn't pop as much as with the white gold. So yes, this combination was intentional -- plus I love how it gives it a ME vibe and not an "everyone has one like it" thing going on.

Also, please note this is NOT MY HAND, nor is it The Man's. It's the lady who works at the jewelry store. Now, for me, if I worked in a job where people are obviously staring at my hands while I hold precious gems, I would not have such unkept, unpolished nails. That threw me for a loop, big time. And it also creates some distraction from client photos and the added turmoil for the disclaimer of those are soooo not my hands.... but I digress.

So there they are -- the rings.

A is for Ass, not Appreciation.

I wanted to post today about our fake marriage counseling to save a buck, but alas, I think I'll skip that and say a huge shout of "Kiss my muthafuckin' ass!"

I get it. He works 16 hour days. He likes to do this because then the overtime is huge and the paychecks are huge, blah blah blah, especially after being unemployed for a year. But ya know, not.my.fault. So I do what I can here, with four kids and five dogs, which includes vacuuming the hardwood floors daily, and making sure that not only his dinner is hot and delicious and varied each night, but also that I re-brush my hair and teeth before he gets here so it's great to come home.

He was so tired that on the way home, he called me to make sure he stayed awake. During that call, my mom called and since she currently has two of my four heathens, I told him I'd call right back, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay there. He said, "Hopefully I won't fall asleep and land in a ditch." Mom says they're coming back tomorrow, and I call The Man right back -- a total lapsed time of maybe 3 minutes max.

No answer.

Over the course of the next 15 minutes, I call repeatedly, leaving "You're worrying me! Answer the damn phone!" kind of messages, and then out my kitchen window, I see the big red monster truck coming up the road. I met him in our room and said, "You knew I was calling you back. Why didn't you answer so I didn't think you were in a g'damn ditch?!?"

He said, "The ringer was off."

Ooooooooooooooooh okay. Ass. I go back to the kitchen to finish dinner. Then I get snide remarks "said in jest" because guess what? Today when I went to pay a chunk of money down on the wedding rings, I flippin' upgraded from a 3/4 carat to a full carat. Snide comment away -- my diamond will be amazing regardless.

Then the lemon pepper chicken had too much lemon pepper on it.

Then he jumped me about "overfilling" the leftovers of last night in his lunch. Are you kidding me? I pack you a lunch the night before and you're going to bitch at me?? I said, "You know, I'm under the impression that when you become full, just stop eating. No one says you have to eat everything I put in there, but I never know which days you won't want much, or will want more."

In Boops world, this translates into: I don't give a shit how bad your day was, I will never pre-pack your lunch again. Ever.

And I'm a stubborn bitch. I really won't.

Then he went to shower and to bed. I sweat and cook for an hour, he eats for 5 minutes, complains about tonight's dinner, complains about his overpacked lunch, and then up and left.

But ya know, that's okay, because my Happy Place has this monster gorgeous diamond that shines bigger and brighter than the ass that is he.

Disclaimers and Other Crap

So... I'm back. I realize this blog needs to be updated almost daily in order for me to keep the voices at bay. Sounds like yet another load I'm adding to my days, but this one will most likely be a stress RELIEVER, or at least I like to lie to myself that it will be.

I guess we'll see.

The Disclaimer: This blog is for me to bitch, although I'm sure sometimes it won't be bitching. As you all know, we tend to write more about the bad, not the good, but I have a feeling I'll be adding GOOD to it as well. We'll blame the Libra in me who likes to maintain balance. Having said that, here comes the issue I can already foresee, assuming I accumulate traffic: I'm just bitching. I'm taking it off my brain and flinging it to the cyber world. Of course ass-vice and comments are welcome, even proposed solutions, but in the end, assuming something Huge doesn't happen, this is the course I've plotted out, and I plan to see it through. I know a lot of you, your first, final and always reply will be: Don't Marry Him.

But well, I'm gonna.

Here's the other thing: Everyone's talking about being "honest", but the problem with being honest with those reading it, mostly The Betties who are used to heaps and loads of honesty, is that I have to be honest with myself. I really prefer to lie to myself, a lot. I mean, I used to think I was a writer, and writers don't lie: THEY GIVE SCOPE to the truth. I like my Land of Delusion and in putting it out here, with great and disgusting amounts of honesty, well, I'll have to see things for How They Really Are.

Frightening thought.

Thankfully, only Betties and a couple of others even know about this blog, so I get to be ME. I should warn you, I'm cranky and I cuss boatloads. I don't get to do that on my "real" blog, and in creating censors on that one, I find I have just absolutely nothing to say. That's kind of sad, huh?

I went to get a photo to add to this post out of habit. I almost always put photos with my other blog posts. I googled "hair pulling" and scrolled around, and then these naked people showed up, and this guy had the girl by the hair but I noted he wasn't doing it right -- he was at the ends, not the base, and a good hair pulling is ALWAYS done at the base of the hair, and it made me think of Fokker, who said just today: I'm into bondage because I'm lazy and like to just lay there while he does all the work (paraphrased!) So, Fokker, now you know how you stay with me in thought throughout the day. Kinky girl. No no, I meant YOU, not me.

I'll be back later with a post on Pretend Marriage Counseling to Save a Buck.

Stay tuned.

Gearing Up

The more I pondered it, the more I loved the idea of an anonymous blog where I can say and do what I want without the worry of someone reading something, or it being imported onto Facebook for the rest of the world, where I can be me in all of the gory glory that I ooze from my pores.

So I made this.

It was to be Betty Boop Bitches, and I had that name registered, but it was linked still to who I really am, so if someone went to the real blog profile, that one came up too. So I had to create a new gmail account and then delete that blog, but when I went to recreate it, it said the blog name was already taken. Well yeah, it HAD been, but I deleted it, asshats. So I had to rearrange the name, and that made me cranky too.

I have a feeling this blog will be used much more than my "real" one. I guess we'll see, eh?